Showoff by Gordon Korman

Author:Gordon Korman [Korman, Gordon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780545393126
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.
Published: 2012-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

17

“I think we should write a letter to the Parks Department,” announced Mrs. Slovak as the car merged onto the Long Island Expressway. “They’re not cleaning the pool properly. The last time I did the boys’ laundry, I could have sworn there was sand in their bathing suits.”

In the backseat, Griffin and Ben exchanged agonized glances.

“Maybe it’s the chlorine crystallizing,” Ben suggested hopefully.

“I don’t think it works that way,” mused his father at the wheel.

It was the Slovaks’ wedding anniversary, and the family and their semipermanent houseguest were headed into New York City to the Italian restaurant where Ben’s parents had gone for their first date.

“It’s really nice of you to let me crash your celebration,” said Griffin, anxious to change the subject.

“We weren’t going to leave you at home to eat bread and water.” Ben’s father laughed.

His wife laughed, too, but not as heartily.

Trattoria Cinque Fratelli was exactly as the Slovaks remembered it. And — what luck! — they were able to get the same table they’d occupied as a courting couple. They sat down and began to peruse the menu in a leisurely manner.

“What do you hear from your parents, Griffin?” Mr. Slovak asked.

“I just Skyped them last night,” Griffin replied. “Their trip’s okay, but you know Dad. He’s only happy when he’s in his workshop, tinkering.” He had a giddy vision of the state of that workshop right now. In the heat of Operation Doggie Rehab, there had been no time to tidy up after Luthor’s rampage. The only tinkering going on was in Melissa’s room, where the Spritz-o-matic was dismantled to its wires and components.

“Unbelievable!” Mrs. Slovak’s expression radiated shock and anger. She pointed. “That man — his dinner companion is a dog!”

They followed her pointing finger. Ben kicked Griffin under the table, but Griffin had already made the identification. There in a corner booth sat none other than Dmitri Trebezhov. And his companion was indeed a dog.

Luthor.

The Doberman sat upright on the banquette, his proud head poised over an enormous plate of pasta. He was delicately eating linguine, a single strand at a time, sucking it up with total discipline and concentration.

Mr. Slovak was amazed. “It certainly has excellent table manners.”

“Table manners? It’s a dog! It’s not even allowed to enter a restaurant, much less to be a customer! “

Ben tried to calm her down. “Come on, Mom. Live and let live.”

She would not be soothed. “I get out on the town once in a blue moon! I don’t ask to rub elbows with millionaires and celebrities. But I don’t think it’s too much to expect that my fellow diners should be human!”

She made such a fuss that the maître d’ tiptoed over. “Is there a problem, signora?”

“I’d call it a problem! Why is there a dog over there slurping noodles?”

“He’s not slurping,” Ben pointed out. “He’s actually pretty quiet.”

“Do you not recognize the gentleman?” asked the maître d’. “That is Dmitri Trebezhov, the greatest dog handler in the world.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that it’s unsanitary to allow an animal into a restaurant!” Mrs.

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